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Prose 01.01
Idea Girl, Episode 2. (Dedicated to Our Bad Penny Idea Girl, Jolen Casper) When we left our heroine, Idea Girl was deep inside the City Museum, confronting the evil, Miss Direction. Face to face with the mistress of mercilessness, Idea girl stands tall, her eyes defiant. “Hah! I have been expecting you, Idiot Girl,” the villainess growls, repeating her taunt, “you can’t possibly hope to stop me now that I possess the ‘Pen of Heonar’, with it I can deceive the world!” “Really,” Idea Girl replies calmly, hands on hips, throwing back her dark hair, “I have a different idea.” Suddenly the hero leaps forward, her right fist tightly clenched as her Idea-knuckle-duster connects with Miss Direction’s jaw. Spinning backward, the shocked evildoer drops to her knees, one hand clutching her cheek. “Bloody hell,” she exclaims, glaring at the heroine standing over her, “I think you broke my jaw, it hurts, get me a medic, you moron, this really stings and I am going to faint.” “It didn’t look that bad to me,” Idea Girl replies, kneeling down, “let me see.” Close to tears, the villain lowers her eyes as Idea Girl leaned closer, “Please help me, you are so kind, I.G. of all the people who defeated my plans, you were always my favorite, before they take me to jail, I just wanted to say, goodnight.” Idea Girl looks perplexed. But before she can ask why Miss Direction was saying ‘goodnight’ in the middle of the day, she jumps. Falling forward, our hero removes the tranquilizer dart from her shapely ass, staring, confused at the small projectile before losing consciousness. Waking up several minutes later, Idea Girl groaned, she could feel her hands tied tightly above her head. As her vision clears she discovers that she had been suspended several meters in the air, from a large hook. “You fiend!” Idea Girl growls as Miss Direction walks into view, “you tricked me by pretending to be injured while your hench-persons snuck up behind me!” “Yes, it is my modus operandi, Idea Twit,” The leather cat suited villain rolls her eyes, “you can thank my assistants, ‘Dew’ and ‘Plicity’ for your current imprisonment.” From the shadows, two figures emerge, a tall, unshaven male and a short, green-eyed girl. Both are dressed in classic thug attire, tight black jumpers and woollen hats. Between them, they push a large tank labelled ‘oil’, rolling the giant barrel until it is directly beneath our intrepid hero. “I have wasted too much time here, I have a world to conquer,” smiling broadly, Miss Direction sashayed across to our tightly bound heroine. “I will make my escape through the subterranean tunnels, eluding the police. And no one, my dear nemesis, can stop me! Dew-Plicity, activate the death trap!” The evil duo race forward, the girl whipping out a cigarette lighter and crouching at the base of the barrel while the male activates a small machine to on the far wall. In moments the fatal contraption was in motion, Idea girl found herself being lowered toward the bath of oil, its deadly surface growing ever closer. “This really is goodbye, Fry-dea Girl!” The leather clad villain laughs before turning to stride out of the room. “Darn you, Miss Direction, darn you!” struggling valiantly, Idea Girl tried to break free of her bonds. But the rope was too strong, even for her heroic wrists. As the vat of lethal oil grows closer, I.G. stopped struggling. Hanging silently, she closes her eyes, her full lips pressed tightly together in deep concentration. “I have an idea!” exclaims our buxom heroine, her Idea Tiara lighting up. The brilliant, white light fills the entire room. “If I can keep this going, I will burn through the rope around my wrists, freeing me.” Sweat pouring from her brow, Idea Girl thought hard, her tiara glowing stronger as our dark haired champion grew closer to the oil. The rope beginning to fray, she could feel it loosening, but she was being lowered too fast! Her ingenious plan would not work in time! “No!” Idea girl cried out, as her feet touched the oil’s surface, the purple leather boots quickly disappearing. Within seconds she could feel the oil on her legs, and it felt… cold. The deadly oil trap wasn’t even warm! “Now, to escape this slippery prison and capture that villain!” Heaving a sigh of relief Idea Girl smiles to herself. It was not long before our hero severed the ropes and climbed out of the barrel. Cooking oil dripped from her as Idea Girl paused to catch her breath. The transparent, fabric of her corset clings to every curve of her glistening body. Hands on hips, she tosses back her long, shiny hair and growls, “You will pay for this, Miss Direction.” Kneeling to examine the barrel, Idea Girl squirms as the oil trapped inside her costume slid over her sensitive skin. “I have an idea, that I will save for later,” she mumbles to herself. Under the barrel was a Bunsen burner, with no hope of heating the massive volume of liquid above it. Miss Direction may have been the Mistress of bamboozlement, but she was mechanically inept. “This will cost you, villain,” Idea Girl seethes, “no one lubricates this girl without buying her dinner first!” With no time to lose, our well oil heroine heads after the villainous wrongdoer, "you will pay for this, the cleaning bill costs a fortune" To Be Continued… Will I.G. capture the dastardly Miss Direction before her plan is complete? Where did Dew and Plicity even get an industrial barrel of cooking oil inside a museum? And will the Bikers that they stole the automated winch system from catch up to them before our slick heroine? Stay tuned for the answers to these questions and more in next weeks idea packed episode of Idea Girl! ---- Return to Prose List...